Sevends ods of Passion

Awe no reviews yet. or flames even. Oh well :)


*

"Well hullo there little lady. Quite a pretty little thing aren't you?" said Mr. Overhill, owner of the Shire toy shop. He patted Alana's head and she just looked up at him with the sharpest eyes he had ever seen on a child before. Alana just cringed.

She looked up at her foster father. "Mr.Daddy. You don't need to buy me anything. Honest."

Frodo ruffled her hair. "Now, Alana. I want to. Don't you feel bad now. I want you to have something to play with. Go on now." He gave her a gentle shove. "Pick out anything you want."

Alana just let out another heavy sigh and looked around the little shop. There were many wind up toys, and hand made dolls. Everything was carved out of wood. Alana spotted some wooden swords that hung on the wall next to the wind up toys. Her eyes brightened, and she trotted over to look at them. They came in different sizes, some longer and sharper, and some smaller carved to be duller. She picked up one of the longer sharper ones. Frodo watched her, cautiously.

She examined the toy sword closely. Might not have been a real sword, but she could still use it to practice. She started swinging it in the air, causing it to make swooshing sounds. Frodo immediately trotted over and grabbed it from her. "Now, now. That's a toy fit for a boy, Alana love, and an older boy at that. Wouldn't you like a nice dolly instead?"

Alana glared up at him. "But you said I could pick out anything I want daddy."

Frodo looked up at the shop keeper. "That was before I knew they started making toy weapons."

Mr. Overhill grinned. "Sorry Mr. Baggins. It seems to be the new wave in the Shire. Every lad wants one."

Frodo glared at Mr. Overhill. "I see. But just remember sir, that some day those lads might want to use REAL swords on each other."

Alana grumbled and rolled her eyes again. Oh brother. She had an overly protective father who was obviously antiwar and -violence. She tugged on his cloak, and he looked back down at her. "Daddy. It's just a toy. Can I pleeease have it?" She asked in a childish whine. She nearly cringed at the sound of her own tiny disgustingly cute voice.

Frodo shook his head. "No, Alana. Swords are no fun to play with. Trust me. Now go pick out a dolly, or something else fit for a little girl. They are much, much more fun. I promise you."

Alana just groaned. For a second she considered the option of throwing a tantrum to get her will through. However, she came to the conclusion that since she wasn't the least bit used to throwing tantrums, it would come out forced and fake and arouse more suspicion that she cared for. She looked around the room again. Might as well just grab something so she could get out of here. Her ears, however, led her to the music box shelves. These were quite intriguing. Her country didn't carry anything like this. For a moment, even her mature eyes held a child like glow within them. Frodo smiled. "You see something you like, Alana dear?"

She looked up at him. "What in Arda are those things?" She nearly cursed herself for saying Arda. No child ever used that name to describe the world.

Frodo found it odd that she knew that word, but ignored it. "Those are music boxes honey." She stood on her toes and tried examining them, and Frodo unexpectedly picked her up to where she could see the ones that were too high for her. "Here. Look, darling. There are even bigger ones up here. Aren't they pretty?"

Alana stared at the musical little objects in awe. Some of them were open boxes showing the gadgets inside. Others had little twirling elvish dancers. Some had little miniature hobbits sitting at a bar drinking ale, the song playing on it actually being the hobbit drinking song. "Amazing," gasped Alana. Frodo smirked. "How do they work?"

Frodo grinned. "Why, magic, of course."

Alana turned to him. "Your people use magic?"

"Yep. Mr. Overhill has a group of fairies who come in here and build them for him." Frodo turned and winked at Mr. Overhill, who smiled back. Alana rolled her eyes yet again.

Alana sighed. She tried acting surprised. "Neat," she forced. The music box that had a little hobbit, next to a wizard in a horse cart caught her eye. She pointed it out and Frodo told her that it was playing 'the road goes ever on.' that his uncle Bilbo wrote. The song was rather catchy. Most of old Bilbo's songs and poetry seemed to have become popular amongst the Shire, even if a lot of folk thought the Baggins's were cracked.

"Your people. They're very gifted in song, music and poetry aren't they?" Alana asked Frodo.

"My people? You mean Hobbits?" Frodo chuckled lightly. "You're quite a funny little thing Alana. So well spoken for a girl your age. So smart," he winked at her. "I wouldn't say we're as good as elves when it comes to singing, but we are rather fond of music, and yes, poetry too."

Frodo ended up buying the music box that played Bilbo's song, and Alana couldn't stop staring at it all the way home. She was amazed that something inanimate could produce music by itself. Even if she had seen many magic tricks before. This was something new. Some form of magic created to bring pleasure and not to be used in war. Of course, if these "Shire" folk as they called themselves did use any type of magic, they clearly wouldn't use it for destruction. They were clearly a peace loving folk.

*

This was the time when he wondered if it all had really been worth it. This refractory thought of his was particularly strong when he hit the wall and the air was knocked out of his lungs. Behal picked himself up - or at least he tried. Being thrown towards a stone wall by a ten-foot-tall- and 800-pound-heavy demon with a bad attitude problem was the best incentive in the world to start considering other options than the path chosen.

That is. if he had a choice.

As any other boneless weakling and self-pitying worm, Behal had a problem in recognizing his responsibility in the matter at hand. He would generally blame everyone else for his misfortune and ill fate and not even consider the possibility of himself playing a part in the ill-chosen decisions he had made.

As of this instance, he knew without the shadow of a doubt that it was Alana's fault that he, Behal, was in this predicament of heavy pain and endless fear. It was she who had been Master of the enviable Seven Winds, it was she who had defeated him - almost defeated him, he hastily corrected to boost his non-existent self-esteem - it was she who escaped him in the desert for which he was being punisheda raa rather ill-tempered balrog. Her fault. All of it.

Nursing this encouraging thought, he almost missed the roar that Juggernaut bestowed on his already much abused eardrums.

"You LOST??!!? her?"

"How can [BAF] a grown man [CRONCH] lose a child in the desert? [SMASH]" Behal was almost grateful that he had to spit out some blood before he could answer the demon. It gave him a period of grace to think. Quickly!

"She tricked me disgracefully, my Lord. I thought she was too hurt to move!"

Wrong answer. Behal was sent flying again. And this time the tall demon moved to his head and put his scaly and warty foot on top of his cranium with a sickening sound. His particular odor steamed out of every orifice of his ugly body. "Tell me,. Behal.. what do you think I should do to a miserable rodent who is too stupid to understand the strength of a wounded woman?"

"Bhut s-e wa-n't a womaan - s-e wa a thild."

SQUEEZE.

Behal lost consciousness as the weight of the demon foot became too much for his puny human brain to sustain. Juggernaut lifted his foot with a snort.

""She was only a child"," he quoted with disgust. "You pathetic excuse for a person. If you were a tenth the man that she is woman in any shape, you would never have considered me as your ally."

And the demon turned and left the bleeding Master of the Seven Winds.

*

"Oh, you are just precious!" squealed Estella Bolger as she pinched an annoyed Alana's cheeks. Estella was a nice young lass that Merry had been courting. Frodo had invited Pippin, Merry, and Estella over for afternoon tea. Well, Estella somewhat invited herself. Ever since she and Merry had been courting she seemed to be glued to his arm. Estella was anxious to tie the knot, but Merry did not want to rush anything even though it was clear that the pretty young Bolger had the strong minded Brandybuck wrapped around her little finger. Pippin found it both sickening and hilarious how she had Merry under her thumb. He never would have thought that old Merry would become smitten before he did.

Estella finally let go of Alana's aching cheek and it was a good thing she did. One more pinch, and Alana might have exploded. Alana just rubbed her cheek and looked up at the blonde, kooky hobbit grouchily. Estella grinned goofily at her, her big greyish blue eyes sparkling. The three male hobbits were quiet for a few moments, as Estella admired little Alana's cuteness. "You just have the pwettiest eyes!" Estella swooned in an attempted, goofy, cutie voice. "And such pwetty, pwetty stwaight hair!" She beamed. "Can I bwush your pwetty hair?"

Alana glared up at Estella, a fire lit in her amber eyes. "No." She said seriously, and crossed her arms. Estella let out a fake gasp. "Awe why not? I just wish I had hair as pwetty as yours." Alana growled and tugged on her hair a bit, then went to sit on the other side of the dining room table by her foster father. "Awe, she must just be cranky," smiled Estella.

Frodo looked down at his adopted little girl and ran his fingers through her hair. "Alana, honey. You do look a little cranky right now. Maybe you need a nap." Alana's eyes widened, and she nearly sneered at Frodo, but stopped herself. She must restrain herself and not cause a scene.

"No daddy. I'm just shy around..big people."

"She is just so adorable Frodo," said Estella. Alana groaned and tugged on her hair again, then sank down in her chair. Estella turned to Merry, who was sitting next to her. "Oh Merry, wouldn't it be grand if we got married and had a sweet little girl of our own like Alana?"

Merry rolled his eyes and Pippin snickered. "Oh Stell. Not this again. Why do you need a kid of your own now when we can just borrow Frodo's?"

Pippin laughed out loud, but Estella growled and socked Merry in the arm. Frodo smirked. "I don't think Alana would like it if I lent her out."

"Damn right!" Alana suddenly snapped, but regretted it afterwards. Frodo gasped. Merry, Pippin and Estella looked at her with wide eyes. "I mean uh.oh shit. I mean.awe shucks."

Pippin actually had an amused grin. He couldn't help it. Even though he was much mature now than he was in the past, he still had a hint of boyish mischief. And you just never heard Shire children say such words. "Well Frodo. When you said she was well worded, you sure said a mouthful." He chuckled a bit.

Frodo looked at her sternly but she opened her mouth again before he could say anything. "Sorry, daddy. It's just, where I come from, kids use those words all the time." She grinned sheepishly.

"Well, I'll only let it slip this time, Alana. But those are very naughty words and are not allowed here, so try not to ever use them again, kay?" Said Frodo.

Alana let out a heavy, annoyed sigh. Sometimes she just felt like screaming. "Okay."

Estella gave her a sympathetic look. "Poor thing. Imagine abducting a child. What is this world coming too? It's no wonder she's so hostile."

*

One morning Frodo found his energetic foster child up and around long before himself. This was in itself not terribly unusual for an inventive hobbit child and apparently not for a human child either. But there was one thing that struck him aghlyghly amazing: she was reading his books. With her stumpy little nose stuck almost between the pages and her intent yellow predator eyes rapidly going from side to side, she didn't hear him approach. Frodo was fascinated. Human kids were fast developers as they tended to have a shorter lifespan than hobbits, but a human child reading with this speed at the age of five was nothing less than ridiculous. With abated breath he leaned down to see what she was reading: Peoples and Species of Middle Earth and a Short Outline of Languages. This was waaaaay above her expected level of comprehension. He couldn't suppress a gasp.

And she whipped her head around with the lightening reflex of a cornered animal, her shining golden eyes burning their way into Frodo's gentle sapphire ones.

For a split second they just remained that way, both mesmerized by each other's eyes, the wolf hypnotizing its prey with its amber eyes and the rabbit feeling petrified and glued to the ground. Frodo shook himself free of the eerie feeling. "You're up early, little one."

"You scared me."

Her tone was accusing, but not the least bit childish. It made him shiver. This was a child made adult much, much too early for her own good. Kindness filled his soul and he forgot all about berating her for her stern tone of voice.

"I am so sorry, my pet," he close to whispered and took her in his arms. She was stiff as a wooden pole. Poor kiddo. Too abused to accept physical comfort. "What are you reading?" he asked while still rocking her softly.

"Mmmm," she tried, her voice muffled as her head was veritably buried in his shirt. Why did he ask that? He could read. And that was probably what he had been doing when he had been looming over her.

With a sharp and sudden pang she realized that this kind of literature probably wouldn't be the chosen reading material for a five-year-old girl. Damn it! She kept making mistakes. But then, she knew she had to find out about this place she was in if she was ever to escape from it successfully. Of course, she had plenty of time to study the area; there was no way she could wander the roads in this age. She would have to wait a couple of years. A frustrated sigh escaped her and for the umpteenth time she considered telling him. And for the umpteenth time she thought the better of it.

"What is it, luv?" her guardian asked softly.

Quick. come up with something childish! "Um. are you going to . punish me for reading your books?" She felt him smile.

"Perhaps I should have. Just as you should have asked my permission to read them." Then he released her and held her at an arm's length to look at her. The fierce look in her eyes from before was gone. "I would never keep you from reading or any other kind of education, Alana - all you have to do is ask. Now, speaking of asking."

"Yes, daddy?"

His smile broadened when she called him 'daddy'. "How can it be that such a little girl can read so well?"

There was that. "Eeerrm. I know many words, daddy."

"Yes?"

"Mommy taught me - long time ago. It was very important where I come from."

Frodo smirked, remembering her preference of words. "And naughty words were important too?"

She forced out a blush. "Yes, 'fraid so."

He swept her into his arms again, in a huge bear hug. "Don't be afraid, little one," he whispered, "you'll grow up to be a fine lady speaking nice words and be respected and loved wherever you go."

The words were meant as comfort and reassurance, of course, and as such she appreciated them. But semantically she couldn't but wince. Nice lady with nice words, indeed. Wouldn't cut it where she came from. Steel led the word and duels supported the steel. Which reminded her. How was she ever going to keep up her sword practice? As her loving foster parent was still embracing her, her eyes strayed to a certain shiny object in the corner. Wow. Neat. Not very big - but with her current size that was merely an advantage. Now, how to sneak out and 'play' with it?

She hugged back Frodo, making him happier than she could ever imagine.

*

One month. One month had passed since Alana had come into his life and enriched it so. She was the source of many troubles. Particularly in dealing with his fellow hobbits. Yet she was also the source of great joy as he witnessed how she slowly became more balanced and calm. She wasn't swearing as much anymore, and she accepted more and more of his hugs. He still wasn't allowed to undress her in the evening or bathe her, however, he was sure that this was just a matter of time before she felt comfortable enough around him. Meanwhile, she appeared to be surprisingly apt in both undressing and bathing. The clothes were donned expertly, and almost no water was spilt during her washing sessions. He almost felt sad about it; no five-year-olds should be able to do these things so faultlessly. When she came out wearing nothing but a towel, he would insist on sniffing her and rub her chest to make sure she was absolutely clean. She didn't like it, that much was certain.

She loved it, that much was certain. Every time he buried that beautiful nose into her and inhaled deeply, she felt her long lost womanhood stirring. Shit! This was one attractive male, and she could do nothing about it. When he then would rub her narrow collar bone lovingly, she had to do something extraordinary not to moan out loud. So she retracted with a sour face and a shrill 'no'. And he would let go of her with a sad and hurt expression in his face. Bloody hell, but Fate was cruel.

Fortunately and unfortunately Madam Butterfly, the head mistress of Shire School, thought it time that the little new addition to the Shire society begin at school. Hobbit lasses and lads would not start school until they were 10, but this was a human child and already taller than 10-year-old hobbits, so Madam Butterfly thought it appropriate that Alana should start in the same class as the 12-year-old hobbit children. Her reading, she assumed, would of course be far behind the other pupils' ability, which is why she suggested to Mr. Baggins that he practice this subject with his daughter.

Frodo cleared his voice and offered the madam another cup of tea. "Well, the thing is, Ma'am. Alana doesn't really need reading lessons."

"You're very proud of her, I'm sure," the big amicable lady started, but was cut short by Frodo in a firm, but friendly manner.

"Naturally, Ma'am, but that is not the issue here. It turns out that Alana has already learned how to read before she came here."

The bulky lady widened her eyes and sent her graying curls flying with a frown. "Really? I say. the humans teach their offspring at an early age, do they not?"

"Alana comes from the mountains up north. Their ways are different."

"Are their brains different too?" the mistress asked shrewdly.

"Erm."

"I thought so," Butterfly said and helped herself to another and particularly sweet- and icky looking piece of cake, "so - we agree that Alana should start in 3rd grade and have supporting lessons at home."

Frodo couldn't help smirking. The mistress was in for a surprise. but he would still have to have a chat with his young protégée.

*

"You're joking," was Alana's comment, her tone of voice bone dry. Frodo eyed her. The situation seemed to have reverted Alana to her previous adult-cheeky attitude.

"Alana," he said warningly. But Alana was close to being fed up with the whole thing. It was bad enough that she to wait for adulthood this way. butjectjecting herself to annoying and condescending school masters and mistresses? No way. She would rather eat a Batalk alive or walk over geysers with her feet bare or piss in a birdie boiler or. she suddenly halted herself. She had been voicing her options without noticing.

Frodo glared at her with disbelief. First of all, he didn't understand half of what she was saying, the options clearly being situations from her own country; second of all, her insolent tone was getting too much. "That's quite enough, Alana," he said sternly, "If you don't belay that tone of yours instantly, I will have to punish you."

He had said so before, and she had always wisely retracted. Now, however, the prospect of having to put up with school among sniveling kids and obeying people who only had a tenth of her knowledge swiped away her caution. She virtually exploded, making holes in the air with her little fists and her straight raven hair whipping around her heart shaped face. "Go ahead!!! I double dare yYou You have threatened me often enough, but apparently you don't have the balls to carry out your promises. I have had it! I am Alana of the Seven Winds, and my actions and words follow my own mind and decisions!!"

Frodo staggered. This was too much. As soon as he had recovered from the flow of her impressive vocabulary, he grabbed her little arm and flung her over his lap. She was strong; he had to give her that. Like a little wild kitten she fought him with nails and fists and kicked at him viciously until he succeeded in pinning her over his knees.

Frodo's face was now flushed with shock and anger as he attempted to keep hold of the malicious little thing over his lap. Trying to control his usually calm temper, he managed to keep her restrained while she still struggled furiously in his grasp, shouting profanities at him and screaming so loud that Frodo swore her little lungs would burst. He had never in his life seen a five-year-old child act this way. This was way over the line, and he had to put a stop to it right now.

"Alana! This disrespectful, naughty behavior of yours ends now. You will never, ever address me this way again, is that understood?" His voice was firm and booming displaying more authority than she had ever heard the gentle hobbit use before. But even if she did carry the body of a five year old, she would allow NO one to treat her this way. So she continued with strenuous efforts, fighting with every force her tiny little body could manage, striving to break free of his grip. She kicked her little legs rapidly and behaved like an untamed animal, attempting to maul its trainer.

"Let me go, damn it! I will have no more of this! I am NOT a child! I am Alana of the Seven Winds!" She barked through gritted baby teeth. Her shrill little voice was starting to hurt Frodo's ears. He knew that the Seven Winds was the place she came from - a noble place by her own saying. Apparently she was used to being obeyed instead of obeying. But right now, it frankly didn't matter. He had, had enough. With a swift movement, he pulled up her dress keeping her locked in place with his other arm. Before Alana could even gasp from the shock, he smacked her little bottom hard over her knickers.

This action made her even more furious. "Stop it! You can't do this! You can't! Release me at once!" She tried struggling yet again, but her attempts were always unsuccessful. Even though he was a hobbit and she a human, he was still bigger and stronger than her. To top it off, her five- year-old little body was already becoming exhausted from her childish temper tantrum, making it even easier for him to hold her down. Blast. This was so unfair.

"I can do this, and I am going to do this, little one." Frodo said sternly. "You ARE a child and you best start acting like one." He smacked her bottom again, and she growled. "You better learn some manners, and start treating your elders with respect, little girl."

Frodo wasn't enjoying this. That much was certain. But she needed to learn a little discipline. He was about to whack her again when her response to his scolding nearly made him fall backwards. "Fuck you," she let slip out.

Frodo was bewildered and amazed at how this sweet looking little thing could contain such a saucy attitude even while he was doing this to her. Shaking with mixed emotions of hurt, perplexity and rage, he slipped his fingers into the waist band of her knickers and yanked them down to her knees. The blood immediately rushed to Alana's baby face as she felt the cool air come in contact with her now exposed bottom. She grinded her small teeth as she felt him lay his warm hand over her vulnerable little cheeks, and she cringed with fury, and humiliation as he patted her behind.

Frodo seemed to halt for a moment to try and calm her, and to also calm his own nerves. "Alana." He spoke softly, but with no less authority. "I am sorry that I have to punish you, but it is quite clear to me now that you're very much in need of an attitude adjustment. This discourteous behavior of yours I will tolerate no longer." Alana expressed her displeasure of this humiliating situation by responding with more tiny growling noises, and kicking her little legs again pointlessly. It was beginning to sink in her head that he wasn't going to let her get away. He wouldn't dare let a five-year-old get away after such a bratty show that she just displayed.

Alana's senseless kicking was cut short by a hard smack on her tender bare bottom. This one unexpectedly made the unruly, enraged little thing yelp. It had stung far more than she had imagined. Then she remembered that her five-year-old body was still brand new and still very fragile. Unlike her old body that had already seen many cuts and bruises. Frodo smacked her again and said something else, but all Alana heard was muffled sounds of his voice. It was dawning on her that he was actually spanking her. Her! Alana of the Seven Winds! With her knickers down!

Every time Frodo felt a tiny movement from her, he made sure his grip on her was steady, and every time Alana would let some other profanity slip, his slaps on her little bottom grew harder. "If you would just be a good little girl, this could be over soon, Alana." He said as he noticed her little bottom turning pink. "I will not stop until you behave yourself. You cannot get away from me, little one, so stop trying to, or you're just going to wear out your little body." Alana was out of breath and panting. She had been kicking her little legs so much, that her knickers had fallen down to her ankles and were nearly falling off completely. She still couldn't all the way comprehend that she, who had stood up against foes twice her size, was now lying over a hobbit's lap, helplessly getting her rear end tanned. And she thought it was humiliating when he put her to bed early.

Frodo was beginning to worry that he was hurting her too much. But she still did not break down or even make so much as a whimper. Only stubborn growls and curse words escaped her little lips. Again, this was very unnatural. Any other child her age would have started crying hysterically and begged him to stop after the first few slaps on their unclothed behind. He was determined to get through to her, but if he kept this up, her bottom would be as crimson as one of Sam's healthy home grown tomatoes. Perhaps she had a high pain tolerance. But Elbereth, were all human children this wild? If that were the case, it was no wonder they had shorter life spans. The offspring slowly devoured their parents. Frodo figured that he probably already gained a couple of gray hairs just from this ordeal alone.

"You will learn to respect me and any guest I bring over, Alana. Unless you don't like sitting down," Frodo said between a couple of lighter smacks on her bottom. He had to start easing up on her, otherwise he would feel like he was abusing an already abused child. And she finally seemed to stop struggling, but still kept that saucy mouth of hers and muttered things under her breath.

"I am your father now, child, and you will learn to obey me whether you like it or not," He spoke sternly, yet gently. "You do not have to love me darling as I love you, but please, show me a little more respect." Alana's eyes widened as she heard the word 'love.' And even though he was still paddling her bottom steadily, she stopped calling him names and went limp over his lap. Even through shock that rushed over her body at what he was doing to her she recognized the hurt in his voice. And now she went silent. No more profanity leaped from her innocent looking mouth. She just lay motionless over his warm lap, pondering, and taking in what was happening.

Frodo noticed the now lifeless little thing he held firmly over his thighs. He ceased spanking her. Had he finally caused her to break down? He listened. No sniffles. No sobs. No quiet mumbling. Nothing. Just an emotionally and physically exhausted little girl breathing heavily, her little face nestled in his bed comforter. Frodo frowned. He had an upset stomach. Was this her way of breaking down, by not moving at all? "Alana honey, are you going to behave for daddy now?" His tone of voice suddenly changed.

Alana just lay there stunned and out of breath. She felt as though she had just scaled the entire Misty mountain range. Frodo let out a heavy sigh. Unexpectedly to Alana, he started rubbing her bottom gently, massaging the sting out. She had never been spanked before, not even by her own parents as a kid. She felt an odd tingle rush over her at the feeling of her guardian's gentle hand on her burning bottom. Frodo felt a sick and guilty feeling wash over him when she did not respond. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Alana love. Are you alright?" He asked with concern.

"Um." She stared blankly into space. Frodo bit his lip worriedly, then reached over and pulled up her knickers. She felt him lift her off his lap, then he held her in his arms, and rocked her.

"Alana," he whispered. He tilted her chin to look into her face. Not one tear did he see in her sharp amber eyes. Only a stunned, yet slightly strained expression. One thing was for sure. She was quite a tough little girl. She reached down to touch her bottom and winced. "I'm sorry Alana," Frodo said soothingly. "But you left me no choice. Please be a good girl from now on for me okay?" He looked at her pleadingly with his gentle sapphire eyes. Alana suddenly snapped herself out of it, and brought her attention to her loving guardian. She saw worry and concern in his eyes. He seemed more emotionally exhausted over this than she was. Poor chap.

Now feeling incredibly guilty over her explosive temper, she decided to make her caring foster father feel better. After all, he always meant well. She struggled for the right words to say. Now, how to say them without sounding too mature? She looked back into his concerned, nuing ing face and said, "I'm sorry for being bad, daddy. I will try to be good from now on. I promise." With that, she latched her little arms around his neck, and Frodo smiled, then sighed in relief. He hugged his little human back.

As she hugged him to where he couldn't see her face, she bit her bottom lip and shut her eyes in frustration. She had once thought it impossible for a five-year-old to get aroused. But now she deemed otherwise. What he saw as a traumatized expression after he had thoroughly spanked her was actually her own shock to her uncontrollable arousal. He pulled her away so that he could look in her eyes again and kiss her forehead. "Are you going to respect me now, little one? I do love you, you know." He smiled at her, eyes sparkling and stroked her cheek.

All Alana could do was force a smile back and nod, trying with all her might to hide her unnatural sexual frustration. But Frodo pulled her into another one of his bear hugs, squashing her little face up against his chest. She could hear his heart beat as he wrapped his warm ortiorting arms around her. He rubbed her back and rocked her some more as he always did. And all this did was drive poor 'little' Alana up the wall. This surely bit the big one. She had a crush on her own foster 'daddy'. And she was disgusted with herself for even thinking such thoughts. He had tried to discipline her, and she ended up getting aroused over it. Perhaps she should have tried fake crying. Normal kids cried during a spanking, right? Blast. That was too hard for her.

Frodo released her from his embrace again and planted soft kisses over her cheeks, nose and forehead like a loving, affectionate parent. Alana had to restrain herself from requesting him to suck on her neck. She had to get stuck with an overly affectionate touchy feely foster dad who was downright good looking, didn't she? Sure, that didn't sound too bad, but right now it was torture. Bloody hell. This "childhood" was going to be even more difficult than her last one. She now had the trials of being a kid AND an adult in one.

*

The sound of screaming, howling, agony, pain and endless fright. High- pitched voices, booming crying, despondent wailing. An ancient stone castle that shook from the abuse in its deep, deep roots into the very mountain.

It was better than sex.

Behal/Juggernaut led their ruthless and merciless army into the respected old estate, and its households of esquires, maids, stable groomers and valets fled in despair for the murderous spears and the incessant sword blows. To no avail.

Behal's blood lust was insatiable, and Juggernaut was fed by it by every drop and every feeling of revenge. This place was his now! And he would force the arrogant and proud inhabitants to their knees and make them grovel at his feet. Tonight he would have the youngest of the virgin maids, and in the morning he would put her head on a stake to induce bottomless fear into their quivering hearts.

He was the Master. He was Behal. Behal of the Seven Winds. Only one nagging thought kept invading their joint minds: thiginiginal Master of the Seven Winds was still alive. Alive some place where they could not reach her immediately. They would have to rectify that somehow. But for now the rush from killing and maiming filled their veins and dominated their lust as they vaded through oceans of dead flesh and coagulating blood pools. Beneath them, ancient runes were sighing and century-old construction was creaking, crying out their last whispers of sorrow and hunger for the previous Mistress.

The Seven Winds was dying.

*

Frodo had made it a point to try and talk his daughter into accepting the idea of school. Perhaps if she made friends with other children, it would wipe away some of her cheeky, stand-offish attitude. She was already quite a smart little thing, and Frodo knew he could home school her himself if he needed too, but he would rather not have her become a lonely outcast. She needed friends closer to her own age. Maybe then she would learn to laugh and play as a normal, happy little girl. The new semester didn't start for another three weeks or so, so he still had time to persuade her into attending.

Alana smiled to herself as she watched her father's gardener, Mr. Gamgee, scuttle about in the kitchen. Frodo invited him over for supper that evening, but Sam insisted on doing the cooking. He had made some of his best fried 'taters' as he called them, and now he was busying about, cleaning up his mess. Frodo chuckled lightly. "Sit down Samwise, and eat with us. I'll take care of that after you leave. I invited you over here to join Alana and I, not to work."

Sam halted, and he never objected to Mr. Frodo. So he helped himself to a plate and sat down next to Frodo and his daughter. "Sorry, Mr. Frodo," he said while sprinkling herbs over his meal.

Frodo grinned. "No need to apologize, Sam. But when I asked you for a recipedidndidn't mean that you had to teach me by cooking the whole thing yourself!"

Sam blushed. "Well, I do love to cook, sir. And since little Alana here said she loved my taters, I couldn't deny her of more." Sam turned to Alana, then patted her head and smiled. Alana liked Sam a lot. He was a good natured fellow. So kind with a huge heart. And an excellent cook. Alana never thought she'd take a liking to foreign food, but she had recently become addicted to Sam's cooking, and especially his 'taters'. Sam turned back to Frodo. "And beggin your pardon, sir. But it takes a lot of skill and training to get my recipe just right."

Frodo laughed. "Are you saying you fear I'll destroy my kitchen if I attempt such a thing?" Sam blushed harder. "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean it to sound like that." Frodo clapped him on the back. "I was just joking Sam. You know your way around the kitchen far better than I."

Being a bachelor, Frodo never took much interest in cooking. He knew how to make a few things. All hobbits knew how to cook at least somewhat. But Frodo, being quite different than most hobbits, took more interest in world history, languages, and other academics. Before Alana came to him, he would grab quick snacks of bread, or dry mushrooms, or some other quickie, instead of going out of his way to cook. Now, however, he had a growing girl to care for, and he wanted to see to it that she ate full, healthy m sui suitable for her young, energy burning body. So he asked Sam politely to teach him how to cook.

"So, Sam lad. How's Rosie doing?" Frodo asked between sips of his milk. Sam's lips curved into a goofy grin. That same grin Alana always saw when Frodo mentioned Miss Rosie Cotton. They had been courting sometime, and Sam wanted to ask her for her hand in marriage. Once he finally went through with it, it would be the bravest thing he ever did. At this thought, Frodo snickered to himself.

*

Alana was busy sitting on one of the many Bag End couches, reading passages from the Red Book that her foster father was writing, and ever so often, she would eye Sting from across the room. The elvish blade shone brilliantly, despite its home in a dark corner. She wondered how heavy it was. How sharp it was. How angry Frodo wouldif sif she were to innocently "borrow" it. Frodo awoke her from her day dreaming by standing over her, causing her to snap hertle tle head up and glare at him with her sharp golden eyes.

The looks she gave him were becoming much gentler everyday. She seemed to be more content now with her home and surroundings. Frodo shot her his usual warm smile, his nearly flawless skin glowing. He sat down next to her and put an arm around her, squashing her little body against his. "You're reading the Red Book, I see." He spoke softly. "I'm so proud of you and your reading skills, Alana. But I'm not sure if this is proper reading material for you yet. There are a lot of scary images in this book, darling." He took it from her, and set it aside. It was quite a heavy book for her. She must have had trouble carrying it.

Alana kept her eyes on the shiny weapon across from her. Should she ask him about it? Or would that just rouse suspicions? Her instincts led her to mention it. "Daddy? What's that shiny thing in the corner?" She pointed in the direction of sting. Frodo's head shot up, and he frowned as she pointed to his old sword. Should he inform her about war and violence at such a young age?

"That's just an old sword of mine, Alana. But I thought you knew what swords were?" He looked down at his little human. "Oh I do, daddy," said Alana. "I have seen many swords. But none like that one. Can you show it do me?" she looked up at him innocently, trying not to look like she were planning something. Frodo sighed. He got up, went to grab Sting, then walked back over to the couch and presented it before her.

"This is Sting, Alana," Frodo said, with a hint of seriousness in his voice. "One of these days we'll read passages in the Red Book together, for Sting plays a rather large part in it. And I will tell you all about the adventures of your Uncle Sam and I."

Alana didn't take her eyes off of Sting. Quite a pretty blade it was. Unlike Frodo, she liked swords. She liked them a lot. She admired the craftsmanship and detail that went into the small blade. Up close, it looked a lot bigger. She looked up at her guardian. "Can I hold it, daddy?" she asked.

Frodo shook his head. "No, honey. I won't have you holding any weapons."

"Daddy. I just want to see what it feels like. I promise I'll never hold it again." She tried giving him a cutie, pupog log look. Frodo sighed.

"Very well," said he. He sat back down in the couch next to her, then grabbed one of her little hands and clasped it over the hilt. Even though it was made by the elves, it still felt heavy to her tiny weak child arm. But no big deal. Only meant that she had to practice extra hard. Frodo only let her hold it for a couple of seconds when he noticed her little arm shaking, and snatched it away from her. "This is the only time you are allowed to touch a sword, Alana." He said gently, but seriously. "I know why you are curious, darling, but swords are dangerous and are never to be used around here. Is that understood, my dear?"

She looked back up to her father. Rats. Now he made it clear that he didn't want her to touch it. Which meant she would be in even more trouble if he caught her with it, because now she supposedly knew better. She just had to ask him about it, didn't she? She looked back into his kind sapphire eyes and forced a "yes, daddy."

Frodo smiled. "Good girl. Now I'm going to put Sting away. He's retired and shall never be used again. I only leave him out now for show." Alana gritted her teeth, and cursed herself for mentioning it. Frodo was so very antiwar- and violence, which made it even more difficult for her to display her aggressive mountain upbringing. She was going to have to be extra careful going about this.